Tooth-Rotting Fluff and Prompting
by squaddreamcourt
Summary: Collection of my drabble responses to prompts sent in. ALWAYS open to more prompt suggestions for any ACOTAR pairing. So far mostly Nessian.
1. Strays - Nessian - Fluff

**Nessian - Prompt: Did you steal someone's cat?**

Looking at Cassian, all muscles and wild ferocity and unruly hair, the last occupation you'd assign him was a nurse. Add the fact that he'd barely healed from having his wings torn to ribbons, and it seemed even less appropriate for him to care for others. Nesta had snarkly informed him of such several times.

No matter how many times she chastised him, however, he seemed hellbent on ignoring her. Though the cauldron had only made her physically stronger, he insisted that she was in need of monitoring. "You've been through hell, Nes," he'd say softly, when she woke up drenched in sweat, sure she could still feel water flooding her lungs. "You deserve some decent rest."

Resting was not easy. In a new, strange place that screamed danger, to her lingering human senses, Nesta would lie awake for hours at night, unable to switch off her brain. Nightmares cut short whatever time she could get sleeping. When she spent the daylight hours training, sheer exhaustion was the only thing that could hold her under.

Though she was loath to admit it, Cassian's 'nursing' did help. He'd stand guard outside her doors at night, fetch her warm drinks before bed, and always be there for her when she woke up screaming for them to _leave Elain alone_. Sure, she'd cuss and curse and him and push him away, but heavens was she grateful for the grounding sensation of her touch when she awoke certain she was drowning. She supposed if anyone had to see her like that, at least it was only him. Big, dumb, lumbering Cassian. Stupid, idiotic Cas. Moron. Oversized beast.

But so, so warm. She came to look forward to the way he stroked her hair with gentle fondness before going to stand guard for the night. She'd dread the nightmares that little bit less knowing that if she lost her grip upon reality, he'd come pull her back, putting those ridiculously muscular arms to use for something. Sometimes he'd even lie down next to her for an hour or so, listening wordlessly as she talked through the terrible visions. Her bedsheets began to smell like him.

Like she'd always known, however, Cassian wasn't a nurse. Once his wings were fully healed, he started going on missions again. They could last hours or days or even weeks, and he could be called away by Rhys at any time the High Lord saw fit. Nesta began to spend more and more nights alone. The dark circles returned beneath her eyes. She did not complain.

Perhaps he didn't notice. Perhaps he'd forgotten about her now that he had his soldier life back, but either way she wasn't going to say a word about it, too stubborn, too full of pride. Like she, Nesta Archeron, was going to whine because she didn't have someone to tuck her in at night.

One such sleepless night, she was sat up reading in bed when all of a sudden, the door burst open. "Falcon, meet Nesta," a gruff, slightly breathless male voice announced. Her stomach tightening, Nesta peered over the top of her book. The wild, beardy face before her was partially obscured by a big orange ball of… something. Something furry.

"Cassian," she said, ever so calmly, ever so slowly, "what is that?"

"Oh please, I know humans have these in their realm." Cas strode over, perching on the side of her bed. "It's a cat, sweetheart. Nesta, meet Falcon." He released the ginger tom cat onto her bedsheets, littering them in orange hair that she just knew would never come off. "I found him out on the Rainbow. Isn't he a pretty boy? Who's a pretty boy?" He cooed, tucking the cat under the chin.

"Cas…" Nesta said, eyeing the purring fur ball as it sniffed at her fingers. " **Did you steal someone's cat**?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Cas picked Falcon up and set him down in Nesta's lap, where he proceeded to purr happily. "He's a stray I've seen picking round cafes for weeks now. I thought he might appreciate another stray for company."

She went to protest that she most certainly was not a stray, but the effort drained out of her. Maybe she was, stuck here in a foreign land waiting for her sister and her husband to decide how they should proceed. Silent, she stroked Falcon, who admittedly was very warm, and very soft. Whatever arguments she was going to make were forgotten the moment Falcon padded up and rubbed his cheeks against her jaw, vibrating with the force of his purring.

"He'll be full of lice," she said, scratching his ears. "Not to mention he stinks. I'll have to give him a bath before letting him near any of my clothes."

"I thought he could sleep here, next to you," Cas said, watching the pair of them get acquainted. "For when I'm not here to look after you."

Nesta swallowed. "I don't need you here to look after me."

"I know," Cas murmured, leaning in to rub his nose against the top of Falcon's head. In doing so, he brought his face unnervingly close to Nesta's, so close she could smell his warm scent, the same comforting scent that had been fading from her bedsheets. "But I miss being able to be here for you. Every time I go out on missions, I wonder if you're okay. So I was wondering if you'd allow Falcon here to be here in my place. Maybe it will stop me missing you so much, knowing you've heartlessly replaced me with this ladies man here."

In spite of herself, Nesta smiled. She looked up at Cas, so close, so warm. Leaning in, she kissed Falcon softly on the forehead. Ever so cautiously, she tipped her face up, and did the same for Cas, brushing the sensitive skin of her neck against the scruff of his unshaven jaw, rough and oddly exhilarating. "Thank you," she said, pulling her lips back from his brow to look at him. "For having such a weak spot for strays."


	2. TooMeta - Nessian - Fluff

**Nessian - Prompt: " why did someone just tell me they ship us"**

Comic Con was not Nesta's natural habitat. Swarms of sweaty, overexcited people bustling about everywhere, always enthusing and exclaiming and squeeing. As someone who considered it a sign of weakness to express anything other than cold disdain, she could not even begin to comprehend this species. The 'fandom' as Lucien, their PR manager, had called it.

She supposed she ought to be grateful that she was part of such a cult phenomenon. 'A Game of Courts' had been a gamble, her very first project as an actress and it involved full frontal nudity, endless travelling, and a five-year minimum contract. Rhysand, the visionary behind the show, was a remarkably persuasive man though. A foolish dreamer if ever Nesta had met one, but in his case, chasing his dreams had paid off. And now people wouldn't stop telling her how much they loved her.

"You're such a _bitch_ ," A girl dressed up as Nesta's character screamed during the meet and greet. "I _love_ it!"

"Oh my Queen, High Lady of the Illyrians, Warrior from the Cauldron!" A man wearing a sculpted chest piece to give him fake abs had trouble breathing as he shook her hand. "You're welcome to destroy my self-worth any day."

She did her very best to smile politely and thank everyone for their support. Most of the rambled gushing people spilled over her was sort of coherent. References to the shows she would nod at respectfully, and every salivating comment about her tits could be filed away for ego-stroking purposes whenever she saw online derision about the fact that of all the Archeron sisters, she had the smallest bosom.

One thing came up time and time again, however, that sounded like complete nonsense to her. Though it pained her to show her ignorance, at the end of the meet at greet, she turned to Cassian.

The male beside her was _loving_ the attention, as she knew he would. Women swooned before his bare chest, some even daring to ask to touch it. However, all apologized and shied away when they spotted Nesta's icy glare. She would not tolerate them inflating that arsehole's ego any further, thank you very much.

"Would you like a little sit down, Cassian?" Nesta asked with a sugary sweet simper and a smile. "It must be awfully tiring, holding up the weight of that enormous head."

"It is damn hard work," Cas said, stretching out like a cat fresh from sunning himself. "Good thing I've got such incredible upper body strength to support it."

Rolling her eyes, Nesta lowered her voice. "Though I consider you a meatheaded jock and a moron," always open with an insult, that was her policy when dealing with egomaniacs, "you probably spend enough time googling yourself to know the answer. Why did someone just tell me they 'ship' us?"

Cassian blinked back at her. "I don't recall boats ever being relevant. Not with winnowing existing. And given how we both have wings, I just don't see why everyone keeps referring to ships." She shut up the second she realized he'd broken into a deliciously smug smile. She pushed up onto her tip toes and placed a delicate hand upon his shoulder. "I swear to god Cassian, if something patronizing comes out of those over-defined lips of yours, I will _end_ you."

"My dearest Nesta," Cassian said, his voice soft and low and far, far too dangerous. "Allow me to show you what that question means. You see all those fans queuing over there, watching us?" He nodded to the hoards of awaiting fanboys and girls. "See how they're quiet now? Well, listen to what happens when I do this."

With one hand he caressed the curve of her cheek, and with another he drew her closer by the small of her back. She would later adamantly deny the way her heart raced and her cheeks flushed as she gazed back at him, though fifteen different camera phones caught the incident and would later upload it to be immortalized upon youtube. Denial could do little to erase how she leaned closer when he bowed his head to kiss her.

The hall around them devolved to chaos. Shrieks of 'Oh-My- _Gawd_!' And stranger still, 'The ship has sailed!' erupted from the gathered crowd, and iphones flashed in a display as impressive as Starfall itself.

"All hail the High Lady of The Illyrians!" Someone bellowed above the mayhem.

"Commander Cas has got the _mooooves_!" Another whooped, punching the air.

"That, my dear," Cas whispered, breaking from the kiss to look back at her, his touch upon her cheek remarkably gentle, "is what it means when the fans say they ship us."


End file.
